


Ego Death

by Ihsan997



Series: The Self-Doubting Color-Neutral Side of the Force [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Academia, Betrayal, Bigotry & Prejudice, Broken Promises, Disappointment, Gaslighting, Gen, Hacking, Isolation, Loss of Control, Loss of Trust, Nepotism, Original Character(s), Partner Betrayal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-04 09:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13362141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ihsan997/pseuds/Ihsan997
Summary: Darth Xuvas, an aspiring Sith Warrior, learns about naïveté and nepotism the hard way - by climbing the convoluted ranks of the Sith Order.An expansion of and original take on the class storyline.





	1. Polite Understanding

**Author's Note:**

> The protagonist enters the Sith Academy in 3648 BBY, a few years before the game begins.
> 
> I don’t own Star Wars or it’s expanded universe.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darth Xuvas explains for the first of many times a bloodline that simply isn’t noble enough for some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tremel is a canon character.

When the nearly empty shuttle finally dropped through the dust-ridden clouds hanging over the academy, the beige landscape of Korriban greeted three initiates inside. All young and too awestruck to put forward an arrogant front, they pressed their foreheads into the windows in order to glimpse the ancient site that had been refurbished into the greatest seat of learning in the Empire. The normal bravado and grandstanding that should have filled the room containing several of the Empire’s overachievers was gone when the first monoliths became discernible.

“I wonder if we’ll have time to explore,” one of them, a sharp featured man with shaved brown hair, murmured as the little dots on the ground expanded in size.

A young lady with a deep shade of red in her complexion shook her head. “Unlikely. The rigors of this place are known.” She sat back down on the row of chairs in the center of their cabin and buckled her seat belt, inspecting the quieter fellow next to him in a manner she probably thought sly.

He could feel her examining his features and complexion and subtly felt himself being judged. Searching for a means to distract his new classmate from any potential criticisms, he tried to speak for the first time since they’d departed from the orbital frigate hours before.

“I’ve heard that they might send us on missions to uncover relics more to use us as unpaid mappers and security guards.”

He continued staring at the window across from his seat, but the young lady continued peering at him. He knew that she was trying to categorize him and tried to be direct to simply avoid the stress of silent judgment.

“I’m from Kaas City itself, over near the arboretum,” he said without prompting. He hoped he could disarm her suspicions, but he had a feeling he was hoping too much in a program where everyone had to be shrewd enough to question the intentions of their classmates.

In as polite a voice as one could muster when making such a comment, the young lady attempted to express her suspicions without declaring him an enemy so early. “I’m not familiar with that area. I’m from the south, almost at the city gates; we have our share of pure blooded families there, too.”

She replied respectfully enough, but her comment still raised an alarm in his mind. It wasn’t the way she said it so much as they way her eyes flitted to his relatively less pronounced features, as well as the way that the brown-haired fellow briefly broke his concentration to glance over at the subtle measuring contest. Had she bluntly expressed a derogatory view, he could have screened her comment as that of a rival and retorted accordingly. The casual manner in which she hinted at their backgrounds, however, is what perturbed him.

“I’m not an alien,” the reserved man replied softly. Although he still remained fixated on the window, he could feel her polite yet tangible suspicion rising.

“So...are your markings from an authentic point in your bloodline?” she asked.

Her presence in the force felt genuine, and at their young age, he doubted she was experienced enough to conceal her true attitude. He breathed a little easier knowing that she wasn’t looking for a fight, but their proximity to the academy caused him anxiety; they hadn’t even landed yet and he was answering questions.

“Yes, our family is considered authentic,” he replied, hedging his words carefully so as not to offend the Human fellow staring out the window. “I try not to focus on the roots of an individual so much as their achievements.”

Her response was swift. “Can those with the noblest lineage not claim the highest level of achievement, historically?”

Whether the other acolyte in the cabin was offended or not, he couldn’t tell. Alarm bells continued ringing in his head; as much as he wanted to gain allies, he also didn’t want to make enemies so early on.

Perhaps he could have retorted and explained the folly of generalization and the branding of individuals. Doing so, however, could sour her opinion of him, and he had no idea whether she was a person to be feared or not. If he could get her talking about herself instead, he’d be able to avoid offending the quiet fellow and cement an alliance with the more talkative lady before the shuttle even landed.

“I take it your family can claim a considerable lineage,” he said after a few moments of silence.

She blinked quickly. “Oh, really? You can tell?”

“Well, I suppose of one doesn’t have their color blindness cured, they might not notice.”

Flattery appeared to work, at least to a certain extent. “I suppose not,” she replied happily, and she finally stopped peering at his horns. “It’s said in our family that, if one looks deep enough in our database, there’s direct evidence of Dark Jedi roots, along with that of the original Sith priesthood. Apocryphal, perhaps, but I don’t think it could be entirely false.”

“So it’s well known in the family, then?”

“Well, to an extent. Most members of the family tend to remember our ancestors, but I have the odd relative who wanders aimlessly in life.”

The sounds of troopers ordering around droids became louder, and they realized that they’d landed. The brown-haired fellow hadn’t moved, giving no indication that he was aware of either the conversation or their arrival. The hatch opened, temporarily blinding them all with the sunlight as a trooper motioned for them to exit.

Attempting to formalize what could be the closest semblance to a friendship he’d have in such a competitive institution of learning, the horned man leaned over to the lady one last time as they stood up.

“I’m Hadru Sutta of-“

“So these are the only survivors of the latest cohort?”

The three asipirants snapped to attention at the sound of a voice they’d all heard one time on a holocron message. An older overseer stood before them, having reached their position without anyone noticing. Alliances would need to be solidified later.

“I’m Officer Tremel, though you should all know that by now,” the overseer said. “We have little time. I’ll explain your situation as we walk...”

(A/N: they don’t actually walk in this story. Walking isn’t a subject I like to write about.)


	2. Rude Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fledgling Sith juggernaut’s inferiority complex is held up in his face by none other than himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story assumes that the Korriban training academy is of realistic design and dimensions (the in-game version obviously isn’t).

After his first few weeks of training, he’d marked a certain crevasse outside the academy as his hideaway. Not even to meditate so much as to escape the intensity of his classmates. Not the training - the trainees.

He’d reached a point where he could reach out through the Force and raise at least a hundred pebbles in the sandy hiding spot and juggle them around in unison. Useless in the eyes of Tremel, but it was the greatest form of entertainment he’d discovered since teaching Korriban. The philosophers of the Sith Order had worked hard to have all personal, unapproved music confiscated from the living quarters, and even Imperial propaganda films had been ruled as distractions during their stage of training. Aside from those pebbles, there was very little he had in the way of freely chosen forms of entertainment.

“Hey, Sutta?”

A hundred pebbles clattered on the ground as he released them as easily as if they’d been in his hand. In slight embarrassment, he turned to find that he’d been discovered by another student rather than a lowly retainer or a droid. The familiar face of the young woman he’d met on the shuttle from the orbital frigate greeted him, thankfully paying no mind to the fact that he’d been playing with pebbles like a child.

“Erm hmm, yes, just some coordination exercises,” he replied with a forced nonchalance.

Again surprising him pleasantly, she accepted his excuse and pressed on with a topic she seemed to feel was important. “Good, that’s good. If anybody asks if we saw each other, just say no because you were practicing drills.” She glanced back behind her toward the access door nobody ever used except for him. “Do you have a minute?”

Reveling in the chance to share secrets and build a sort of network, he nodded and began speaking more quietly than before. “Yes, a little more than a minute. What do you need?”

He’d never seen the woman smile (he couldn’t even remember her name), but he could tell that she felt relieved at his eagerness. “Good, good. I need help with something that could work out for many of us, but I need a good citizen who can be...discreet. This is serious.”

In a reversal from the day they’d met, it was his turn to react well to flattery; being trusted with sensitive information was the sort of acknowledgement he’d been craving after his discovery of how catty Sith aspirants could be.

“What is this news that might work or for all of us?” he asked.

“Alright, so you know my master, Darth Baras, has a problem with Tremel, right?”

He cocked his head back, unable to feign knowledge. “What? Since when?”

She cocked her head right back at him. “Have you met Darth Baras yet?” she asked.

“No, I’ve only really dealt with Tremel so far. I just saw Darth Baras walking in a hall and was told to vacate the area, so I assumed the rumors about him being a big deal are true.”

“Okay, so here’s the short version. Get ready for this. Tremel oversees newcomers like us and sends us on shitty missions hoping that we die and get filtered out.”

“Yeah, it’s some filter...I spent two days walking into a wasteland, both ways, just to prove that I could read a megalith covered in High Sith script.”

“Of course, and...” She did a double take. “...you can read those old pictographs?”

“Well, uh, yes. I think it’s part of how I ended up here. Everyone in my family learns.”

“Okay, even better than I found you first, then,” she said. He had no idea what that meant, but he felt further flattered that whatever secret she was passing on was one he was the right person for. “So Baras really has it out for Tremel. I mean, he one hinted that he suspects Tremel of faltering in his devotion to the Emperor.”

“I...I’ve never sensed that from him. But Darth Baras reads...he knows people. That’s a trusted source.”

“I’d like to think so. And that’s why something big is about to happen. Nobody else knows yet, but I’m telling you because there’s a mutual benefit here. You can get in on what’s soon to happen, and I need another student to help cover me. And...”

Her eyes darted around in the isolated area. “...is the door soundproof?”

His two heats began beating a little faster; she’d given him so few details yet had already captured his attention with what little she’d told. Immediately, he walked over to the door leading back inside the academy itself.

“As long as it’s shut tight; just let me check.” He pulled at the latch and found it sealed. “It is.”

He heard a practice lightsaber ignite not any later than when he felt the searing heat of its blade on the back of his shoulder.

“Argh!” he grunted as the electrified trainee weapon narrowly missed his head when he ducked.

The pain of the bruise streaking across his back and shoulder throbbed when he spun around and instinctively let loose a back kick in reaction. He wasn’t even sure if they’d been watched or who could be attacking them, but he felt the weight of a smaller person twisting as his boot glanced off the arm of his attacker. Seeking aid, he spun toward her position only to find the space empty and the tip of the training lightsaber sailing toward his head again. He parried the attack with a backfist to the attacker’s arm and found her scrunched up face, focused and unprejudiced, straining to a darker shade of red as she reeled from his blind counterattacks.

No confusion gripped him as he beat her back with no transition, mental or verbal, from their conversation to their fight. His mind went blank as martial training took over, and time strangely sped up; what felt like seconds of parrying her blade could have been minutes, but he’d knocked the blade from her hand before he could even generate a coherent thought.

Pulling him back into reality, she swiftly slashed at him with a primitive, non-electrified knife. Any notion of this being a weird test of their comeraderie was gone when she aimed for his neck; he fumbled majorly by parrying such a short weapon at a distance and received several copiously bleeding cuts on his forearms for the error. Only when he kicked her legs out from under her was he able to finally best her, Force-gripping her wrist and manipulating her knife against her own chest. When she tried to Force-choke him, he Force-forced her to stab herself.

Defiant and unaccepting, she frowned bitterly and stared into her own lap as she bled to death against the rock wall. His heart continued to pound even when he was at rest, more from the realization that he’d broken an academy code of conduct than any sort of remorse. Anger conquered all emotions as the cuts in his arm throbbed and reminded him of the unprovoked nature of her assault.

Unprovoked. He could be accused of a serious violation through no wrongdoing of his own.

“So I’m just...” Memories of cyber-bullying by humanocentrists almost caused his voice to crack, and he cleared his throat. “So I’m just low-born scum that doesn’t belong here, right?” he huffed.

His inferiority complex was stripped right in the open, and his nose was rubbed in it, when she glanced up at him as if he were the biggest fool on that holy planet.

“You’re a citizen, stupid,” she coughed, spitting blood onto her chin as she spoke her last words. “A smart one...and...you were in my way...”

She died while revealing his fear and waving it aside as if it were ridiculous. Perhaps it was. As she slumped over into a heap on the ground, he didn’t lament over how naive he’d been to have thought he could make friends by being open and honest in conversation. He didn’t wallow in loneliness upon the realization that he had no true friends.

He felt stupid for having assumed that simply bigotry could have motivated her to risk expulsion.

He was the one with the real problem, not her. If anything, there might have been a sort of logic to her action, even though her judgment of the danger be posed had been inaccurate. Any notion of speciesism was rooted only in his own mind. She hadn’t been a bigot; he was just insecure.

He could stuff her corpse down a garbage chute in the hallway immediately inside the door; he spent time on that wing of the building specifically because it was always empty. He could also visit one of the malfunctioning medical droids for treatment since it never saved any records. He could also throw his burnt, bloodied tunic and shirt into the trash compactor too and make up a story for losing them. But he couldn’t shrug off the pain of a self-inflicted wound. Even when he’d earned a spot in the top institution of learning in the galaxy, he was still crippled by lingering doubts he could blame on none other than himself.


	3. Avoidable Losses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The young Darth Xuvas finds that, no matter what he tries to do, life as a Sith acolyte is one of paranoid fear and lack of trust. Even the act of passing a group of strangers imposes the threat of violence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the ultra-violent, ultra-competitive rivals in the Sith Academy storylines.

The pureblood loner watched the dust kicked up by his steps as he walked along a dried up riverbed. The drama and intrigue of the academy was weighing far too heavily on his shoulders considering the fact that he’d only been there a month, and he just needed to find new hangout spots to escape and clear his mind. He could just barely see the academy over the horizon in the distance, following him as if to reprimand him for his sorrow after having worked so hard to earn a spot in the institution.

The most prestigious institute of learning in the galaxy, he could remember his father telling him.

So many of his former classmates on Dromund Kaas quite literally killed in an attempt to gain entry to the academy on Korriban. To be truthful, he’d killed other students as well; the fact that he made a point of looking them in the eyes first didn’t change the fact that obsessed over enrollment just like so many others. So why didn’t he feel as overjoyed to be there as other acolytes did?

His foot hit a rock and kicked up more dust, and he tried to just stop thinking about his misgivings and enjoy his walk. At least he’d found a place where he could be alone on most days.

He’d chosen the dry riverbed since it seemed like the perfect isolated location to clear his mind and remain unseen. To his great surprise, a few other acolytes had also chosen the spot to take a stroll in - three other young men, walking in the opposite direction but quite a ways away. Perhaps if he pretended not to notice them, they’d continue walking and he’d continue being anonymous.

Their voices were hushed, and he momentarily whispered a prayer of thanks when he thought they might be as uninterested in meeting new people as him. That feeling of thanks dissipated when he noticed, from the edge of his vision, that they were pointing at him.

“...highest results on...exam,” one of them whispered while jabbing a finger in the lone pureblood’s direction.

“...limited spots...and he’s going...”

“...impression on the overseers...”

Hadru Sutta, an acolyte who’d now realized how hard friends were to come by in the Sith Academy, sighed to himself. In the preparatory academy of the Sith Order in Kaas City, he’d faced many groups of marauding miscreants who were only brave enough to cause problems in numbers. To see a group of other guys actually pointing and glaring at him like a bunch of petulant children itching for fisticuffs in the playground, however, was a new low he hadn’t actually anticipated.

Knowing that dogs tended to give chase unless stared down, he continued walking toward them even when he knew that the end result would be a fight he didn’t want. They’d only follow him if he tried to be the bigger man and walk away, and if he ran away, he’d ruin his reputation.

“Hey you,” one of them with bizarrely white hair barked at him. “We want to have a word with you.”

Doing his best to stare at them blankly and make them feel that they were unimportant, he sighed audibly and out his fists on his hips. “Make it quick,” he drawled.

“You can count on that, show off,” replied another one wearing a faux-trendy one-sleeved shirt.

When the one-sleeve guy tried to walk in a circle to stand behind Hadru, the loner sidestepped and blocked him. “Keep your hands where I can see them,” he ordered while staring down the jerk with poor fashion consciousness. He knew that would only incense them even more, but he had little recourse; backing down would only empower them.

“Scared?” third and plainest, most indistinguishable, one of the miscreants snickered.

If the lone acolyte had thought of a decent comeback, he’d have dropped it right then, but he was too busy thinking of ways to get away from them. If he taunted them back, then it would just turn into a round of pointless insults, and they’d get a form of attention they possibly craved. Fumbling for a response, Hadru simply escalated the situation, knowing that it probably would do so no matter what action he took.

“One more step forward and I’ll make you drink your own blood.”

The most uninteresting man on the planet actually paused and hesitated, but the fashion-senseless jerk saw an opportunity to strike. Before the loner could react, the one-sleeve guy shoved him hard and then jumped back like a petty ten-year-old.

“Shut your stuck-up mouth, noob!” the one-sleeve guy shouted.

As if smelling blood in the water, the white-haired guy started jabbing his finger again. “You’re going to make sure that you don’t pass your Force demonstration test tomorrow so our graves can be curved, worm.”

Desperate for a solution but running short of options given their remote location, Hadru imagined every possible flight scenario but found that none of them seemed realistic. When the plain indistinguishable guy tried to sneak around behind him again, he realized that he could either stall until they attacked him, or just provoke them into attacking immediately; running would only be an invitation for all the other conniving cowards at the academy to harass him once word got out.

Picking the jerk with one sleeve as the braver of the group, Hadru swung his fist. The one-sleeve guy had noticed and swung back, and they both hit each other with a sudden force that caused the other two to flinch. Their fists connected with their faces simultaneously, and they guy did have a good arm on him; the difference between the two of them, though, was that Hadru knew how to take a punch. The one sleeve guy dropped to the ground, out cold, as Hadru reeled from the jolt to his cheek.

The white-haired acolyte ducked and tried to throw a sucker punch, narrowly missing by a few inches. The lone pureblood stumbled backward gracelessly and caught himself, sidestepping to avoid being surrounded again. Anger boiled up inside of him as his cheek throbbed, and he tasted the copper flavor of his own blood in his mouth.

A last glimmer of hope that he could end the conflict there and back off flittered through his mind. “That’s your only warning,” he said while pointing back at them, though the attempts of the pair to move on both sides of him forced him to continually retreat. He mustn’t have appeared very threatening.

“That rule against acolytes killing each other hasn’t been approved yet!” the white-haired guy hissed while lifting his palm in the air.

Before the pureblood realized what was going on, his opponent had Force-launched a sizeable rock at him. He threw his hands in the air defensively and took the brunt of the object to his arm, sending a painful jolt up and down he limb and stinging the muscle thereafter. The guy came at him again, distracting him while the other one jumped on his back and tried to put him in a sleeper hold.

“Grab his leg!” the veritable money on his back yelled, thankfully giving away their strategy.

When the white-haired young man tried to do exactly that, Hadru raised his knee, causing it to collide with the other young man’s face. He couldn’t see the damage he’d done since he was choking and gasping for air, and he started to kneel to escape the chokehold. The plain-looking guy kicked one of his legs out from underneath him and tried to pull him to the ground. Hadru reached back and gouged one of the guy’s eyes, causing the assailant to scream and let go just in time for the white-haired guy to charge again. He tried to kick Hadru in the groin but missed, receiving a broken nose as a reward for his failed attempt.

With both of them injured, Hadru knew he had to act quickly to save himself. He Force-pulled another large rock over to him and used it as a blunt instrument to bludgeon one of his attackers, and he then Force-choked the other until neither one of them visibly reacted anymore.

“Ack!” he grounded as he was knocked down by a blow to his back.

The one-sleeve jerk had woken up and rushed straight at Hadru, knocking the wind out of him and sending him to the ground. He had to absorb a few rough kicks to the ribs as he scrambled to his feet, and then another sucker punch as he tried to create distance between the two of them. When he saw the jerk reach up for a Force choke, he kicked the guy’s kneecap out.

Panting and wincing as the jerk rolled around and screamed on the ground, Hadru surveyed the dry riverbed where they’d scuffled. The guy he’d hit with a rock was bleeding far too much, and the one he’d choked was as still as a statue; their respective presences were now absent from the Force. After only a month at the academy, he’d now killed three of his classmates, and through no fault of his own.

“I warned you...I warned you all,” he panted, spitting out blood in the process. “You have no respect for the Order.”

“You’re a disgrace to the Sith Order!” the jerk wearing one sleeve wailed while clutching his sprained knee.

Furious at the pain in the deep muscle of his arm and back, he was finally swift to articulate his thoughts.

“No, you’re a disgrace. Don’t you see how few in number trained warriors have become? Compelling a classmate to kill you only reduces the number of defenders of the Empire.”

“I’ll report you for an unprovoked attack!” the jerk wailed.

The pureblood gritted his teeth angrily. “You’re not even listen...look, your friend just pointed out that the rule against killing each other hasn’t been confirmed yet,” he growled. “And here you are, forcing me to reduce the number of proper Sith Warriors yet again, like too many others have done before us. So who is it that’s disgracing the Order?.”

He choked on his own spit after having been choked by one of his random attackers, giving the jerk an opening to negotiate.

“Then you’re the guilty party if you don’t spare me! I’m hurt, stupid, I can’t fight back - you can freely choose what to do! Why reduce the number of qualified warriors even further!”

Hadru paused knowing the other youth had a point. No matter how long he stared down at the broken, fashion-clueless jerk, though, he couldn’t release his rage at having nearly been killed for no reason. At least, not simply by talking.

He pulled the bloodied rock back over to him. The jerk on the ground fell silent and followed the movement of the blunt instrument visually, though the guy’s attempt to use puppy dog eyes failed miserably. Hadru could sense the other young man’s fear but it still wasn’t enough to quell his rage.

“I’m sorry, but I’m too tired from being kicked in the ribs to engage in philosophical debate.” He stepped closer to the jerk, looming over the guy, rock in hand. “And I can’t leave you to try this again.”

Twenty minutes later, he’d rested up the best he could. Cursing the three corpses on the ground, he limped across the dusty plains to the dormitory, looking over his shoulder the entire way back to his bunk. Even when he was simply trying to go for a stroll, it seemed, he couldn’t escape the viper’s nest that was the academy.


	4. Asset Forfeiture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An aspiring Sith juggernaut tastes the pain of losing years worth of computer files to hacking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place some time in 3647 BBY, a few years before the start of SWtOR.

Hadru took his time with his meal at the academy cantina, staring into his tray and ignoring the relative moodiness around him. He’d been so preoccupied as of late that he was finding the full extent of his mind taxed. There were brief periods where he would simply lose a few seconds to empty staring, no thoughts passing in his mind.

The problem wasn’t his training. Truth be told, he’d performed in the top percentile on most of his combat demonstration as well as his written exams, and he felt that his instructors were mostly satisfied with his results. No, his problem wasn’t with the academy itself, but with its other denizens.

On Ziost, most of the other acolytes were cliquish, and forming a group of close friends served as an emotional lifeline in such an environment. Korriban, however, was quite different; his expectations about social life on the planet had turned out to be entirely wrong. Where he’d expected to find more cliques, he instead found a few handfuls of people who seemed close to one another and a whole lot of individual loners keeping their heads down as he was doing. Except, in addition to keeping to themselves, they also randomly stabbed each other in the back and then pretended that nothing happened.

At least the backstabbing was no longer literal; it was against the rules now. In theory, his lot should have been improving.

Pushing the isolated feeling out of his mind, he rose and returned to his dorm room to catch up on evening reading. His most recent roommate had been decapitated during an intense sparring match, leaving him with a measure of privacy he’d found difficult to come by. Kicking off his shoes, he grabbed his datacron and laid down on his bed. He was bruised up from practicing unarmed defensive maneuvers against a classmate wielding a practice saber that morning and was looking forward to the less physical side of his education.

For a few minutes, he just reviewed his schedule and his e-memos on the device. Their communication was restricted, and none of the acolytes had access to calls or messages, even with each other, outside of a one-hour period each week. Without much else to do, he was actually able to focus on academic pursuits - the distractions of the world of the uninitiated couldn’t pull his attention away. He’d been making headway in annotating his favorite book in the galaxy, the Chronicle of Sorzus Syn, and had recently started labeling her words based on themes he’d chosen so as to perform a sentence-by-sentence categorization of the text by topic rather than by chronological order of authorship. He’d read her book enough times to almost remember the lines and their various themes verbatim.

His datacron appeared to be acting up, as his usual file tree was disorganized. Free of roommates, he might actually have the time to fix it later, but for the time being, there was a certain passage in which Syn’s comments required further analysis of the reader. Jumping around his disrupted data drive, he tried to find the master file among what appeared to be an irregularity in the synchronization.

It was strange...the master file wasn’t in the normal place. He jumped around a few folders but to no avail, and began to wonder if his device was so old that he’d need to reformat it. All datacrons were academy property for the sake of focus and security, so it was possible that his had simply been used, abused, and dropped by too many acolytes.

“Okay...” he murmured, trying to remain calm.

A couple of search functions couldn’t retrieve his master file, so he tried looking for the subordinate files instead. None of them were turning up, and he began to wonder how so much data could be moved. He’d imported all of his personal comments on Syn’s work which he’d performed at home and on Ziost, an effort at hermeneutics spanning two years, upon his arrival. That was a considerable amount of audio, imagery, and text, and he would have expected to find more of it in quick searches. There was no file cloud for it to be accidentally transferred to, because, again, their networking abilities were restricted, so he began to worry whether or not he’d spend the whole night just finding and sorting his files rather than reading.

All was well until he discovered an empty folder he hadn’t created himself. In an old cache of documents which itself had been emptied, he found a simple location labeled ‘WARNING’ in red letters. He knew little of computer programming and feared it may be some sort of factory notice in the event of software problems. The electronic service androids were offline for the next two days, and he’d rather not wait until then to have the problem fixed.

Opening the file, he began to read the crude message written in the same red text.

GET A BETTER FIREWALL, TEACHER’S PET

Hadru’s hands began to shake as he tried to comprehend what was going on. The file had been created with administrative authorization but at an unmarked location and time, leaving him clueless as to how it had happened. They were supposed to be locked out of the network...nobody could access an academy-issued datacron...

...right?

“No, no, impossible...”

He scanned every bite of his device, finding folder after folder simply empty of all data. Everything he’d collected for the past two years, from old training schedules to task lists to videos of his improving combat forms, all of it was gone.

His annotated notes on his favorite Sith religious text were gone.

“Damnit, damnit, damnit!”

The floor shook as he leapt to his feet, and his movement of rising knocked over his nightstand. He began to enter his system administration interface, finding absolutely no record of who else had accessed his datacron and when. All that was mentioned was that a complete system wipe had taken place that afternoon.

Every dirty word in every language he spoke flowed from his mouth as the past two years of his life were so easily deleted. The next ten minutes were a red-hot blur of rage, and at one point the bed of his former roommate ended up in splinters across the room.

All of his work...all of it, gone in an instant. He had no evidence, no lead, and not even a demand for ransom to get his work back; the perpetrator had simply sundered his progress. It could only be another acolyte given how petty they all were, but he had no way of figuring out who it was since he rarely interacted with others. Some scum bucket had simply been intimidated by his progress and tried to slow him down. And his hate was fueled, more than anything, by the fact that they’d succeeded.


	5. Foolish Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A naive teenager learns a useful lesson about trust and why it shouldn’t be given readily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in 3646 BBY, when the protagonist is 19 years old.
> 
> Eskella is a canon character.

The two acolytes embraced each other just a few moments longer inside the isolated hallway of the academy. Away from prying eyes, they were able to steal one of the few precious moments available to students as scrutinized as their kind. Given the intense pressure they faced from their instructors, it was a miracle that the two of them ever found any time alone together. Those few moments were the first they’d had in private for over a week.

Hadru held Eskella close as he bid her farewell. The exclusive, specialized training challenge she’d accepted would see her flying to an entirely different hemisphere of Korriban for a few weeks. Although she was typically quite calm and collected, even distant, she’d been a little distraught knowing that the training course would see those acolytes who’d been accepted sent to an undisclosed location and banned from all communications throughout. Their usual isolation was about to increase.

“You can do this...you’re capable, you’re strong, and you deserve to be challenged,” he whispered as they held each other in the shadows. “Please, focus on yourself; I’ll be here waiting when you return, but these next few weeks must be about you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and nodded against his shoulder. “It really means so much to hear that coming from you...I felt so selfish accepting the challenge and leaving like this.”

“Never! No, don’t feel that way for a moment. What’s good for you is good for us. Nothing would make me happier than seeing you succeed.”

He could feel her tighten her grip on him in a way she’d never done before. Eskella was ever the perfectionist and feared nothing; to see her apprehensive pained him even if he was seeing more of the real her which she hid from everybody else.

“There’s so much pressure...what if I fail? Father will have me sent away. I know the other instructors would.”

Unable to bear the sight of her faltering, Hadru drew away from her momentarily. When she saw him reaching for his belt, she covered her mouth with her hand.

“Your lightsaber?” she gasped. “But you’re the only member of our cohort who earned one already; the rest of us are still stuck with our practice sabers!”

“Then this will be the edge you need to succeed! Eskella, it’s an authentic lightsaber, but I forgot to save my fingerprints to it until now. You can still take it as your own and none will be the wiser.”

She stared at the weapon in his hands, looking downward as she accepted it from him. “I don’t know what to say,” she mumbled shyly, so unlike her.

“Say that you’ll return to me safe and sound,” he told her while hugging her one last time. “Say that we’ll weather this time apart and grow even closer as a result.”

Finally, she looked up at him, giving him the sincerest smile he’d ever seen. “I love the things you do for me, Hadru...”

“I’ll never grow tired of doing them.” They both paused at the sound of her timepiece ringing; their moment was through. “You must go; don’t let anybody ask questions about where we both were today.”

Hugging him again, she made him realize just how deep her feelings must have been for such a character change. Nobody who knew her would ever believe she was capable of such tenderness. “Not yet. Remember, wait for me to be gone for a few days before you go to finally meet father. He’ll have found my message by then because it’s on a timed delivery.”

Savoring every last moment with her, he held her fingers in his hands as he led her to the furthest end of the empty hall that was safe for them. “Don’t worry, dear; I, of all people, wouldn’t behave so foolishly.” His hands felt cold when they finally let go of each other, and he felt as if a piece of him was missing as she finally walked away.

That last bit of warmth touched him when she smiled for the last time. “I know, dear.”

The following few days weren’t easy. Even though they’d only been able to see each other a few times a week, the knowledge that she was so far away stung him. She was the first person he ever felt he’d loved, as well as the first person he’d told that to. He’d always wondered why other people his age felt so blue in the mood when their significant others were away from them. He wouldn’t question their feelings anymore.

When enough time had passed, he checked the schedule of her father at the academy. He was one of the overseers, and thus generally hands-off with his daughter to avoid charges of nepotism, so it was likely that the old man had no idea that Hadru and his daughter were an item. Once the pureblood was sure that he’d found a time when his possible future father-in-law was free for office hours, he made sure to be waiting outside the office door.

When the time had finally come, Hadru found himself alone, as he so often was. His first few rings of the buzzer went unanswered, but eventually he heard the old man stirring.

“Just a minute,” overseer Tremel replied from behind the door. When it swung open, a noticeable chill passed over the both of them. Tremel stared for a few seconds, his face settling into a displeased glare. He was obviously the type of father-in-law who would be difficult to placate. “Get inside,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

Hadru entered the office and sat down in front of the desk, remembering the little monologue about devotion and fate which he’d prepared. Tremel didn’t make eye contact at first, searching through his messages with the same glare down at his miniature holoterminal. The younger man’s heart thumped anxiously as the older man ostensibly searched for the message which the daughter had left.

“So, sir...you might not know me yet-“

“I know enough,” Tremel interjected harshly, very much the protective type of father even when his daughter was so capable on her own.

After a few more moments of flipping through holographic messages, the overseer’s ire noticeably increased. Despite Hadru’s faith in he and Eskella’s ability to stay true to each other no matter what, he preferred to avoid upsetting her father too much at the first meeting.

He cleared his throat. “Well, I can assure you that my intentions-“

“I’m already nauseated enough just by the sight of you; spare me the pathetic thoughts which go on in the mind of a miscreant like you.”

Hadru recoiled at the forcefulness of the response. This was definitely not what he’d envisioned, and he reeled under the realization that his introduction to his girlfriend’s father would be so difficult.

Desperate to diffuse the situation, he tried to lean on his other half to reduce tensions. “Sir, I do believe that Eskella left you a holomessage on timed delivery. It might explain a few things.”

Tremel’s retort was swift and furious. “You think this is a game?” the old man asked rhetorically.

“No! Never, sir!” Hadru replied nervously. “I assure you that my intentions toward your daughter are genuine-“

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this! Do you have any idea what sort of punishments the academy delivers in response to stalking?”

In a way, Hadru felt relieved despite the angry father’s raised voice. The man simply had the wrong idea. “It isn’t like that, you see-“

“Listen here, you freak! The academy might block me from being directly involved in the affairs of a family member, but if there’s anything that pushes me toward that, it’s your funny business!”

“Mister Tremel-“

“That’s OVERSEER to you, punk! And if you don’t watch your behavior, I’ll have your head on a plate - assuming that Eskella doesn’t first!”

Confused, Hadru paused and watched the Human’s nostrils flaring. The man’s entire comprehension of the issue was completely wrong, and the pureblood began to wonder if he’d been fed information to mislead him. Nobody knew about the relationship, however, only adding to the mystery.

“Overseer...perhaps we should review her message. Please. I think it will clarify a few matters.”

“Audacious!” Tremel answered. He then flipped through his holoinbox again. “You must have some incredible spying skills to have known she complained about you.”

“Complaint? Wait-“

“Let’s review, shall we? You’ll have no wiggle room to claim that you weren’t warned.”

Confounded beyond belief, Hadru could only watch in silence as everything he thought he knew was upended when Eskella’s image appeared in the hologram. She bore the same scowl as her father.

“Father. By the time you receive this message, I’ll already be safely on the other side of Korriban. I’d like to raise your awareness regarding a certain issue I’m facing. I do hope that matters can be resolved prior to my return.

“As of late, another acolyte has behaved in ways which I feel are inappropriate. A certain Hadru Sutta has taken to making unwanted catcalls and eyebrow waggles whenever I pass by his end of the dormitories. He apparently spread a rumor that he and I had relations with each other, likely for the purpose of slandering my reputation. Such boorish displays are anachronistic, but his close friends acolytes Dogros and Kallende both confessed of their friend’s claims to me out of guilt.”

“Who?” Hadru asked upon hearing the names for the first time.

“Shut up!” Tremel yelled.

The pureblood’s jaw dropped open as he waited for the punch line, the big surprise, the joke which his first love would make toward the end of the video, denying what he was hearing for as long as he could.

“Sutta may also have stolen a certain lightsaber which was promised to me by Darth Baras, also telling his friends that he intended to sabotage my efforts at the upcoming challenge session. If I haven’t recovered it by the time you receive this message, then his quarters may need to be searched for it, as well as for five-thousand, six-hundred and thirty-two credits which he owes Dogros.”

“That’s the exact amount of credits in my coffer...she saw it, sir, that’s a part of the prank-“

“One more word and I’ll decapitate you where you sit!”

Hadru shrank in his chair, attempting to control his choking breaths as he watched the end of the hologram.

“Please, dear father, I’ve been focusing on hard on my training, and I don’t need the distractions of some jock bragging to his friends about his fantasies. I know you’re unable to intervene ethically speaking, but I do hope you can find policy-based measures so I can inform myself on how to properly deal with a stalker. I love you always, father. Eskella out.”

Fighting to retain his composure, Hadru tried to avoid Tremel’s glare once the recording ended. He looked from Tremel to the wall to Tremel to the desk to Tremel, practically liquefying under the protective father’s rage. Too afraid to speak, he waited for the overseer to begin another tirade.

“You’re being transferred to a dormitory one-hundred kilometers to the north. You’re to board a shuttle there within the hour, and you will NOT return to your former room here beforehand. Whatever I find there will be confiscated and redistributed to your two friends, who at least had the sense of honor to report you.

“Don’t let me see you here again. I can’t touch your status in the academy, but I can damn well sure pull some strings to have you in the worst living quarters, with the worst schedules, under the worst instructors we have to offer. Do I make myself clear?”

Winding and straining in his throat, Hadru merely stared at the floor and nodded. The muscles in his chin tensed up, but he somehow managed not to let the devastation he was feeling show. He nodded in reply, unable to do anything else.

“Get out of my sight,” Tremel said with a tone of finality.

Hadru didn’t need to be told twice. He’d once wondered why other people felt heartache upon being separated from their beloveds; he’d never truly pondered what betrayal felt like. Questioning his own memory and sanity, he collected himself and left the office in a hurry, marching straight to the regional transport hub outside the academy grounds without stopping.

In a way, Tremel had given him a gift. Unable to wrap his head around what had happened, the fledgling Sith Warrior could only run away to ignominy, wishing to be as far away from the accursed place as he could. It took all of his mental fortitude to pretend to sleep on the entire trip to the more remote location, pretending to be invisible from a world he despised and biting blood from his tongue.


	6. Change in Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a teacher, counselor, or other academic person tells you something so profound or helpful that you remember it twenty years later, even when you don’t remember the person’s face or why you were sent to their office in the first place.
> 
> This is that moment for a certain struggling juggernaut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows just after the protagonist’s exile from the main academy.

In a remote training center on Korriban, far away from the prestigious halls of the academy’s main branch, a lone hooded acolyte walked down the long, dusty lane toward one of the less-frequented shrines. Though worship was a significant portion of a trainee’s day, certain houses were more popular than others, especially those near the dormitories and other facilities. On an outcropping overlooking what once may have been a verdant valley eons before, a maintained but forgotten shrine greeted the man wearing a good a he approached.

With the orange sun hanging over the jagged horizon, Hadru felt little change as the sense of solace he’d found in the isolated branch of the academy descended around him. The shrine was typical, like others of its kind, and shouldn’t have caught anyone’s eye. And although the aspirant warrior did pay his respects to the statues of the fallen as he entered, he reminded himself that he wasn’t there to visit the building, but rather the one who was inside of it.

Flanked by possibly defunct guardian droids, the dimly lit shrine led to a votive altar at the far end. Perhaps as old as the dried up valley outside, the stone house of worship was rarely visited - the aspirant knew due to the single trail of footprints visible in the layer of dust which had collected on the floor. That trail led to a single worshipper kneeling in front of the altar; and though the older man’s back was turned, he was obviously aware of the younger’s entrance.

Excited and nervous, Hadru stepped forward quietly, unsure of how swiftly to move without acknowledgment. The quiet prayers continued until he’d reached the whisperer’s side and knelt down next to him. Silence reigned for a few moments until the older man grew impatient.

“Speak your mind so that you may return to your training.”

The voice was clear and neutral, which was technically the best reception the fledgling warrior had ever received from an instructor. He’d planned the meeting for weeks, double-checking schedules and marking every possible location where the visiting scholar could be found alone. His chance had finally come; he couldn’t waste it waiting.

“Lord Abaron...my name is Hadru Sutta-“

“I know who you are.”

“Oh...I see. Good, thank you-“

“I’ve performed no favors to warrant thanks.”

“Oh...kay. I understand. I’ve not come to request any, but I hope that you have a moment or two to spare-“

“Not for the meek. Speak or leave.”

The older pureblood’s voice remained even, and the younger couldn’t sense any disturbance in the Force. Only the normal heated hum of the dark side could be felt with its warmth, a warmth separate from the essence of the scholar next to him. Still, it was abundantly clear that small talk would achieve nothing.

“Alright then. My lord, I wanted to ask if there’s a process by which acolytes may initiate complaint procedures with the administrative unit.”

“You don’t need to ask this question to me, acolyte. Procedural inquiries can be handled by any service droid in the local office for the staff specialist.”

“The question is simple, but I was hoping for a more expert opinion. I wanted to ask if you happen to know other means by which a student, hypothetically speaking, could seek a redress of grievances-“

“You’re holding back.”

“I’m sorry, my lord?”

There was a slight pause in their exchange. “Just say what you’re truly thinking. Don’t waste time.”

Hadru stared into his own lap for a second as he found his prepared speech unraveling. He’d truly thought that his facade wouldn’t have been unwound so quickly.

Left with little recourse, he tried the direct approach. “I feel that I’ve been wronged...by so many people. When I was at the main campus, my progress was sabotaged so many times...by other students, and even by teachers on two occasions.”

“You claim a grievance against a large number of people?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Then you’re on the right track,” Abaron replied.

“But it’s damaged my standing at the academy, my lord!”

“That isn’t possible. The entire student body is in cutthroat competition; your reputation doesn’t matter because it’s maintained only by those who would see you fail anyway.”

“But I’m not supposed to even be at this remote location, I was sent maliciously-“

“I’ll see to it that you stay here for another two years beyond the first you just completed.”

Defeat began to creep in to Hadru’s mind. “But my lord...”

“I’m going to tell you something, young man,” Abaron interjected politely but firmly. “I hope you realize how much I’m helping you by sparing this much time.”

There was already a sense of finality in the tone of the Sith lord’s voice, yet the man hadn’t even reached his point. Knowing when to admit defeat, Hadru stayed silent and prepared himself to be put down.

“Our species is dwindling in number, and those who score as well as you do in both their combat sessions as well as their theological exams are few and far between.” He paused when Hadru’s eyes widened. “Bring your ego to heel, acolyte. I check everyone’s scores and remember them. You’re talented, but so are others.”

“My apologies.”

“Our kind is numerically small, and you should feel honored to be a part of an institution such as this. That being said, you’re missing something that’s necessary at the main branch of the academy. You’ve focused so hard on becoming a valiant warrior that you’ve neglected your progress as a cunning Sith. You’ve allowed your zealous devotion to the Dark Side to blind you to the fact that not all of its devotees possess the long term vision you so value. You can sense their sincerity through the Force, but you can’t sense their intellect or time-sensitivity. You’ve allowed yourself to become a victim of those fueled by blind ambition and a lust for short term gain.

“You should be the one gaining the upper hand over them, flushing them out like Revanites and crushing them for the sake of stability for the Empire and the Dark Side itself. But you’re not; and had one of your adversaries not had you exiled to this faraway branch, you already would’ve been mired in further scandal to the point of expulsion, or dead.”

The two of them were quiet for a long time as Hadru considered what the more experienced warrior had said. Only a light breeze over the valley outside could be heard as they both knelt in front of the altar, and for sure the sun had already set by the time the acolyte spoke again.

“What am I do to for the next two years, then? Of what use will this be?”

This time, Abaron was slower to respond, though only because he seemed to have been enjoying the silence. “This location, so far from the main branch, is for those who’ve already wasted second chances. None of them are as capable as you, which means that on the one hand they aren’t as dangerous as those you faced before, but on the other hand they’ll all see you as the one to bring down so they can climb up. You’re a target, a big fish in a small pond without enough food to go around. This is a better introduction for you to the paranoia you’ll need to survive.”

“For two years, my lord?”

“I could arrange you to stay here longer; understand that you’re being let off easy. Survive for these two years, and then perhaps you’ll be ready to handle yourself at the main branch.” He paused one more time before rising to leave. “Do not speak to me again before then.”

Bowing his head in fear and respect at the last order, Hadru waited silently as Lord Abaron took his leave. The sound of the older man’s speeder whizzed by the entrance and disappeared, leaving the younger man with the solace of the wind and the darkness again.

For a very long time, he prayed at the votive altar as Abaron had been. A few minutes later, he’d already forgotten what he’d asked for. His mind was too preoccupied by how spectacularly his plea for clemency had backfired.

Outside he walked to the edge of the cliff and watched the stars rise over that jagged horizon. The unmoving nature of the spike-like geological formations almost made his vision blur as he stared at them, trying to rationalize the actions of Abaron, a man well-respected among students and known for pro-pureblood biases which Hadru has hoped to manipulate.

Was this Abaron’s version of help? Hadru hasn’t even asked himself that question yet. As he watched the stars twinkle, the question echoed in his mind. He’d wanted permission to return to the main academy at Korriban so he could ostentatiously denounce those who’d wronged him and murder them in full view of other acolytes. Was that the wrong course of action? Or was Hadru simply not cunning enough to pull it off yet?

Either way, he was sure that his elder had been aware of his intentions; otherwise, they wouldn’t have been exposed and rejected so quickly. As much as it hurt to admit, Hadru began to realize that perhaps he really wasn’t ready. He’d left the academies on Dromund Kaas and Ziost early, and he excelled in his tests, but the Sith Order was so much more than that. And if he wanted to become more, then maybe he would need to slow down. Maybe he would need to swallow his pride and spend a few years at an unheard of, less prestigious branch of the academy while the minnows in the small pond nipped at his fins. And then, once he’d become the big fish by eating all the rest, he could move on to deeper waters.

Dejected if accepting, Hadru held an all-night vigil at the shrine, forcing himself to come to terms with his lot for the next few years. Come the morning time, he’d already be expecting the first minnows to come biting.


	7. Callus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you want to win a rigged game, then you must break the rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in 3644 BBY.

In the poorly lit, musty tomb, Hadru led the two other acolytes, Veshta and Kayin, even deeper toward the bottom. Scaling the passages downward in chambers with poor ventilation was difficult even for the physically fit, and the three of them had removed their headgear as they continued to descend. The passageways were slanted and narrow, though, so the sound of their approach was partially muffled from the group they’d been trailing.

As the three of them crept quietly beneath the surface of Korriban, it was the oldest among them, ironically, who appeared the most nervous.

“Wait, wait...they’re speaking again,” Essor Kayin whispered while trying to wave for his two companions to pause.

“Then be quiet and listen,” Veshta replied. She continued creeping in lockstep with Hadru, ignoring the less confident member of their small alliance of convenience.

Eventually Kayin caught up with them again, pausing dramatically every few steps as if encouraging them to do the same. They ignored him and simply walked carefully, creating nary a sound as they pursued another student who’d received unfair help on a relic hunt which served as a significant criterion for promotion to the limited number of seats in the advanced program at the academy. Further and further they delved until the amount of noise increased ahead of them, and they finally stopped.

“It’s undefended...” whispered an awestruck voice toward the end of the chamber.

“Please, let’s go, master...” replied a meeker speaker.

Judging by the echo, the chamber ahead was of considerable size - all the better for a scuffle to even the playing field in the relic hunt. Hadru and Veshta both nodded to each other and crept forward, leaving Kayin to watch their backs. They didn’t need anyone else with the same idea as them creeping up on them.

Behind a collapsed stone column, the two scheming Sith knelt and watched. The spacious chamber was lit only by a neon torch carried by a Rodian slave, illuminating the rival warrior but leaving Hadru and Veshta hidden. They watched as their rival inspected the relic, a small brown sphere covered in deactivated glyphs. The slave’s torch revealed the face of the young man with light brown hair who’d flown to Korriban’s surface in the same shuttle as Hadru three years prior. The brown-haired boy was unlikely to recognize the pureblood due to the latter’s loose hood, but Hadru certainly remembered him. He couldn’t think of a more fitting way to announce his return to the main academy.

Wanting to catch his colleague in the open to better make a point, Hadru stepped ahead even of Veshta and entered the chamber with heavy footsteps. The Rodian cowered away from the passageway, and even the brown-haired acolyte appeared unpleasantly surprised at the side of a stealthy rival encroaching on his find.

“Back off,” the young stranger said with a respectable strength to the tone of his voice. “Leave me be to claim what’s rightfully mine.”

As young as Hadru might be himself, his few years on Korriban had been enough for him to learn the value of action over words. Without escalation, he ignited his lightsaber, illuminating the chamber even further with a red hue. His nameless opponent rushed to return the enscribed tablet to its resting place and wield his own weapon, and Hadru made a point of staring him down during a few moments when he could have easily struck decisively. Quickly grasping the intimidation tactic, Veshta entered the chamber and leaned against an opposite wall unarmed in an attempt to belittle the young cheater’s abilities.

Only when the cheater had taken a proper stance did Hadru move forward. “Nepotism renders your discovery forfeit,” the pureblood replied in a much harsher voice.

In one fluid motion, Hadru charged at the brown-haired acolyte and met the latter’s lightsaber with an underhanded swing of his own. His opponent’s form was broken, giving way for the cheater to stumble backwards and throw up an improper defense on unstable footing. A single hateful, overhanded strike both knocked the lightsaber away and cut downward from the cheating student’s neck to his groin, cauterizing the wound and sinking so deeply into the swiftly lifeless body that Hadru actually had to deactivate his lightsaber just to get it out. Of the three people who’d arrived on that shuttle years ago, Hadru Sutta was now the only survivor.

Veshta began to clap almost sarcastically. “An entertaining spectacle, if short,” she chuckled, though her eyes kept drifting over to the relic floating in its holding space again.

Swallowing a lump in his throat and pushing himself off of a moral precipice, Hadru ignited his lightsaber a second time. “That was only a warmup,” he practically growled at the person who’d been a trustworthy companion for a few weeks.

Like an insectoid metamorphosis, Veshta’s face fluctuated from sarcastically humorous to ironically humorous to sardonically incredulous to just plain shocked. When Hadru kicked the corpse on the floor out of his way and took another aggressive stance, Veshta’s facial expression became downright murderous.

“You bastard, you incredible-“

Using the same strategy he had mere seconds prior, Hadru cut off his opponent’s speech and directly took action. Veshta was stronger and more powerful than the disappointing brown-haired acolyte, and she actually parried a few of Hadru’s aggressive strikes. The moment she tried to push an offensive of her own, however, he savagely kicked her in the ribs and sent her a meter back, almost knocking the panicked Rodian into a corner of the chamber. She took up a more defensive form and glared at their third wheel watching the passageway.

“Kayin, you know this whack job will kill-“

Determined to wear her out given her considerable prowess in comparison to his first opponent, Hadru cut off her sentence again and swung his saber at her head. Forced to parry and sidestep blindly to avoid being cornered, Veshta allowed Hadru to easily see their flustered companion finally pick a side. Kayin yelled incomprehensibly and lunged at Hadru, receiving a stiff parry-backhand combination that sent him to the floor. When Veshta tried to capitalize on the distraction, she found her overhead strike stopped cold when Hadru impaled her through the chest. Denying her any chance to end his successful chain of maneuvers, he headbutted her, knocking her weapon from her hands and allowing her the peace to die while unconscious.

“No!” Kayin yelled while still scrabbling on the floor. He dove for his lightsaber, only for Hadru to kick the weapon into a deep crack in the aged chamber wall. “No, no!”

In desperation, Kayin tried to grab Hadru by the leg, leading the pureblood to drop down and drive his knee into the disarmed man’s neck. His lightsaber deactivated and hung on his belt, Hadru proceeded to beat his former companion from one end of the chamber to another, choosing not to use the Force just to make a point.

Satisfied that a point had been made, he dropped Kayin on the floor and left the confused, frightened man to continue crawling away like a worm.

A wave of disgust at what he’d done washed over his stomach but eventually passed. He continued staring at his former companion for a few moments, wanting to be absolutely sure that his heart had accepted what his mind had been planning for the past few days. When Kayin started to crawl out of the chamber, Hadru knew he’d have to speak to make his grand announcement known.

“Can you fathom why you’ve been spared?”

Unable to think coherently, Kayin just kept on trying to escape despite his disorientation. “You backstabber!” he yelled without any forcefulness in his voice.

Hadru growled beneath his hood. “Do you know why I didn’t kill you?” he asked, dumbing down his speech to be better understood.

“No...” Kayin whined while crawling over a collapsed pillar he could have just walked around had he stood up.

Hadru followed Kayin only to the end of the passage and then stepped on the loser’s hand. Leveraging weight until the man screamed, he stopped following and waited until he was sure that he’d be the focus of his victim’s attention.

“Because you’re worthless.”

“No...” Kayin whined.

“You’re worthless. The qualities which make you worthless as a warrior are the same qualities which make you worthless as a supporter.”

“I’m not worthless!” Kayin tried to yell back, though he figuratively shrank when he sound came out suppressed and weak.

“You never took action until you thought Veshta would do all the work for you, and you still failed. And when you did fail, you folded like a decayed leaf.”

“You’re wrong!”

“I’m right. You’re so worthless that you just witnessed a murder among acolytes, yet you’re already thinking of ways to avoid seeing me again and pretend it didn’t happen.” Hadru paused when his heart began to race so fast that he felt uncomfortable, such was the rush at blatantly breaking Imperial ordinances and daring a beaten man to report him. He almost felt dizzy and was grateful that his own nervousness was concealed. “You’re worthless because to even kill you would be a waste of my time.”

Giving Kayin one last swift kick to the rear, he sent the terrified student running out of the chamber and up into the darkness of the escape shaft. The sound of tripping and falling echoed within the stone halls until it disappeared, leaving the pureblood alone with the slave.

The Rodian actually appeared less nervous than Hadru’s former companions had. A sort of informed wariness marked the slave’s large eyes as he regarded the vicious juggernaut respectfully.

“I saw nothing, my lord,” the Rodian said. “I have no loyalty to that abusive scum. I saw nothing.”

Hadru shook his head. “No; you saw everything. All of it, in detail. It wasn’t your fault, and you were powerless to stop it...but you saw it.” He stepped aside to allow the Rodian a clear way to exit. “And my peers will all see it through you.”

Too sharp to be stuck in such a lowly societal position, the slave understood immediately and relaxed a bit. “Understood, my lord.” The disadvantaged Rodian made haste in leaving, though he did walk more confidently than Essor Kayin had.

When the sounds of all other life forms ceased, Hadru exhaled loudly and slumped against the wall. His heart was beating so quickly that he felt uncomfortable. Alone with his thoughts, he pulled his hood back and watched the two corpses smoldering on the floor.

He’d killed so many at a young age, raised to be the epitome of an aristocratic, knightly class of warrior-scholar. Because he hasn’t yet formally served in the military yet, most of the lives he’d taken were those of his fellow Sith, and these were no different in that sense. What made them different is that he’d betrayed them.

He felt sick again and had to wait out the pang of nausea. In his mind, he’d morally justified his act before he’d even scouted his two hapless companions, realizing that he’d have to partake in the literal backstabbing at the academy in order to avoid the troubles he’d so naively brought upon himself previously. He knew that these two likely wouldn’t be the last people he’d deceive if he truly wished to advance within the Order. He certainly hoped that the act of betrayal would come easier to him next time.

Next time would likely come soon...word would get out. He’d returned to the main academy. The bigger fish would come biting.


	8. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Sith grad student makes the move toward the workforce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in 3643 BBY.

On the same dusty plateau as Korriban’s main academy, a more modest institution of learning sat within the valleys which had once been rivers millennia ago. A healthy number of students filtered in and out of the series of detached halls and training rooms, paying each other no mind as they all hurried about their business. Even in that valley-turned-training complex, though, there was one local sight which garnered a reaction. It was him.

Barely even noticing the scattered groups of initiates as he walked by, the pureblood continued reading the holobook he was projecting from his wristband as he moved straight through the complex of buildings toward the far end of the valley beyond. The younger acolytes panicked and hurried to jump out of his way, parting for him like butter splitting and parting around a knife. Whispers traveled around as various rumors were repeated, many of them true and more of them outrageously embellished, all of them surrounding the acolyte who’d risen to scare even his trainers at the main academy. When he didn’t even notice the presence of his youngers, they only began to weave more phantasmagoric stories about his supposed wrongdoings.

Buried in a long treatise of refutations over the exact interpretation of the Sith Code, the pureblood’s mind wasn’t even connected to what the acolytes he’d left far behind him were saying or doing. Kicking up dust as he walked out of the colonized valley, he continued reading until he could sense a series of presences in the Force at his intended destination. Aside from those he’d expected, there was a newcomer - one far stronger than he’d expected. Curious as to the identity of the visitor, he closed the holobook file and finally paid a bit of attention to his surroundings.

Further into the wasteland than any of the initiates cared to go was a shed he’d built using his own hands without the assistance of droids. The quadruped blue-black figures he’d expected were laying in the dirt within a fence he’d built around the shed, alert to his presence as well, as always. Another figure, though, stood on only two legs and watched the four-legged animals roll around in th dust. The young pureblood paused and watched as the visitor gave not outward indication of having noticed him there...but all the same, he knew that he was being observed again.

Hadru eventually joined the visitor in leaning against the fence. His tukata pups became even more exciteable when he arrived, whining to be let out of the fence. Hadru obliged, opening the gate so the semi-sentient critters could scamper off to dig for the rare, water-rich rodents which burrowed under Korriban’s surface. He and his guest both watched the pups off in the distance as the animals kicked up dust; he wasn’t sure what he was meant to do until the visitor spoke.

“You haven’t done that bad,” Lord Abaron said plainly and without looking at him.

Hadru tried to pause respectfully, but his eagerness swelled too much due to the status of the man doling out the complement. “Thank you,” he replied, stopping himself before he could start to ramble.

Abaron shook his head. “I only pointed in the direction. You had to do the work yourself.” The tukata pups caught an unfortunate animal in a shallow burrow and pounced, creating a bit of ruckus that gave the two purebloods an amused pause.

“Well, all the same,” Hadru said after a few seconds, “I’d been facing the wrong direction prior to your advice.” Wondering what caused the visit after so many years, he tried to indirectly seek out the older man’s purpose. “I passed all trials at the main academy; transferring to this smaller location was the only way I could remain here and further my research.”

“Acolyte files aren’t held secret from me,” Abaron replied swiftly, humbling the younger man with the flat tone of his voice. “And your intention is blameless.”

“Then I’m glad my belief wasn’t self-deception.”

Abaron nodded and continued watching the tukatas tussle, though he’d clearly stopped paying attention to them. “Many of the overseers were afraid of you.”

Unsure of whether or not he was being tested, Hadru froze. When he couldn’t find the right words, his elder spoke again. “That could only have been due to unlawful powers of nepotism on your part, or due to fear of lawful reprisal over wrongdoings on their part. And your family is too low-class to possess any nepotistic influence.”

“I suppose that’s a complement in this context,” Hadru said after releasing a pent up sigh of relief.

“There’s no shame in orthodoxy. Everyone wants to be the maverick, the anti-hero who breaks from tradition to forge a unique path. Such disorganization leaves us open to exploitation by the enemy. The Empire will succeed through discipline and hierarchy.”

Hadru tried hard to focus his mind and temporarily forget about the fellow students he’d killed in duels and other unauthorized situations. Perhaps he could be the straightedge warrior the elder spoke of, but he’d have more than a few skeletons to hide in his closet.

Unsure but willing to change, Hadru tried to act nonchalant. “Then I’ll continue on the path of ideological purity,” he replied.

Abaron gave no indication of having heard him even though he knew the older man had. Neither of them spoke for a while. Hadru found the elder pureblood’s presence to be surprisingly calm for a member of the Sith Order. Even though he could feel the power of the dark side radiating off of Abaron in waves, that power seemed more like a slow burn of stored potential energy rather than an ostentatious, unrefined mess of rage displayed by others who’d achieved Abaron’s rank. It was like a calmness devoid of passivity, or a stability devoid of actual relaxation. Hadru felt jealous; he wished to achieve such a stage one day.

When the silence was finally broken, it didn’t come as a shock; Abaron was quiet but not statuesque.

“You need to move on from here.”

In truth, Hadru understood what that meant, but his mind played tricks on him at first. ‘Here’ most certainly didn’t refer to the local branch of the academy; it meant Korriban as a whole. Still, the order came as a shock. He’d finally found a place where he was comfortable, like in a sort of stasis.

But Abaron, the one he’d taken as a sort of role model, wasn’t comfortable. The man was calm and confident, but not comfortable.

“I’ve started work on another paper, I...still have sessions on defensive combat forms which I co-teach...why now?”

Though the tukata pups ran past them in the opposite direction, Abaron continued staring out into the barren wasteland. “You've hit a plateau as flat as the one I’m looking at over the horizon,” Abaron replied. “By all means, complete your current commitments. You shouldn’t need but a few months. But make your preparations now. I’ve spoken to Darth Aruk, the leader of our Sphere of Influence; you fit the title of a dark lord, but you can’t progress if you stay here.”

For the first time in a few years, Abaron actually turned to look at him.

“Take your weekend to think about the possibilities. This is a change, and you ought to sleep on it. But know that the galaxy is waiting, and that the Empire is in need. Find a way where all can benefit.”

Not granting the acolyte the chance to ask impatient questions, Abaron took his leave, walking on foot back into the valley. Hadru watched him until he disappeared and waited a little while longer. Alone aside from the tukatas, he leaned hard on the rickety fence.

He was worried. Neither of the two options laying before him seemed appealing.

He’d built a small area for himself knowing that Korriban was only a point of transit. The effort was a futile one aimed at forming permanence from a non-negotiably temporal state.

He’d made no effort to seek opportunities off world as a full member of the Sith Order. All of his future had been put in the hands of Darth Aruk, whom he’d never even met personally.

Anxious and perplexed, he let his passion dominate his peace. In one last test of his powers, he held his arms out toward the shack he’d built and focused. He could feel the death in the stringy wood of the desert trees he’d used to build the walls. He could feel life in the mild growing therein and the weeds which had sprung up in the structure’s shade. Objects as inanimate as planks of wood and fence pickers pushed against his presence in the Force, giving a mild resistance as he held them. The fruit of weeks of labor, a project he’d used to fill his free time, could still remain standing for many humble years if left be.

So he destroyed it.

An explosion of splinters popped in the air, stinging him as bits of wood cut the exposed bits of his skin. The walls of the shack cracked loudly as he Force crushed the entire building, and the aluminum roof screeched as it was torn apart. Kinetic damage obliterated the result of his toil, leaving nothing but a worthless heap of biodegradable trash where his own private piece of the planet had once stood.

The moment the fence was likewise crushed to bits, the tukatas screeched. Despite the care he’d given them, the intelligent creatures seemed to prefer the wasteland to his shepherding and bolted as soon as their shelter was gone. They ran off over the horizon, never to be seen again.

Alone, Hadru found that his only personal connection to Korriban had been ended by his own hands. He was without roots again, without obligations. He was free.

The weekend was too far in coming. Instead, he turned back toward the settled valley, making his way to the communications outpost. If he was going to move on with his life, it would have to be cold turkey; fear and self-doubt would set in were he to wait a day longer. Before the week was even through, Hadru Sutta would file his intention to apply directly to the Sphere as a member of the Order.


End file.
